Black Ice
by Thirteenth-D
Summary: Captain Elsia of the Obsidian Army is most likely a genius and a strategic mastermind. However, when a take-over goes horribly wrong and too many of his men die, a blemish-free hand extends itself to him, offering him and his men refuge form the storm of horrors. Though perhaps this extension of pity will brew an entirely storm of death and nightmares. (NOT genderbend!Elsa)
1. Relief in Grief

**Hey guys! Listen, I know I've been a little AWOL (and by a little, I mean a lot AWOL) but I promise to get the next chapter of WTHWTM before the year's done! **

**That was a joke you guys, but I'll really try, I promise.**

**This one is Elsanna, so if that's not really your forte, I'm sorry, but this one isn't for you.**

**First chapter is just a little introduction so sorry if it's a little slow!**

**Enjoy, you cute little people!**

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The wind was buffeting, stinging and frightening in its chill against my face as I gripped the horse with my knees. The muscles of the animal were strong and almost impenetrable against my legs, even through the saddle. Grunts and heavy breathing filled the space behind me, as well as the pounding of hooves on the heavy snow comforter that appeared out of seemingly nowhere in the field that served as a perimeter of the Arendelle fjord. Little clouds of the breath of men were conjoined with their breathing and groaning, the toil of a long journey finally wearing down on them. My second in command, Raymond Abernathy – a blond man with a rough and sharp jaw, his hair reaching just slightly below his chin which was covered by a harsh stubble – was just a bit behind me, his spotted horse heaving and clopping, having a strangely hard time heaving over the snow. My guess was that it was old, near death in Raymond's overt neglect and abuse of it. It was truly sad, how much he overworked the poor beast, when all it wanted to do was be a good and sturdy servant to the beast I called Lieutenant. It was especially overwhelming when he whipped it and spurred it into utter exhaustion at the end of the day when we set up our tents. He was a good man at heart, that I knew, but he seemed to have to heart or moral code when it came to animals…or women and children, for that matter. I waved my hand at him, ushering him up to me without moving the scarf around my mouth for fear of cracking my lips or drying my mouth without reason. With a heave, a huff and a few lashings of his whip, Raymond was beside me, his horse's eyes wide and scared, the whites plain and apparent against the black and brown surrounding his eyeballs.

"Yes, Captain," he growled, the words muffled by his own scarf.

"Do you think we should set up camp? Before the weather gets too terribly bad?" I spoke louder than usual, the most likely below-freezing air immediately barging into my throat, making it ache and burn. "It seems that the further we go, the worse it gets, no matter which path we follow."

"I'm not sure, Captain." He pulled the scarf down from the top of his lip, the skin there already beginning to contract and chap, becoming white and pale in the most disgusting way. I scowled at his blatant apathy for his appearance, even more so when we were about to request a sitting with the Queen in a few days' time. "If we stop now and continue stopping every other night, we'll arrive at a fortnight at the least." His voice was gruff, just as disgusting as his lips. Although I knew Raymond spoke sense, it took all I could to not pull him off of his horse and beat him. Our men were dying in their sleep from the cold, shivering to death while they dreamt of their home, their families, their favorite meal perhaps, and all he cared about was getting to the castle in time. _Truly horrifying_, I thought as my gloved fingers tightened around the reins, _how a man so heartless could be so lovable_. He was always adored by the women of the countries and the towns outside the castle walls, even if he was worse than a backwoods stable boy when it came to manners.

I paused before a sharp cry forced the snow and air apart, shaking the air around my ears and making the ground under me seem to shake in a furious rage. I pulled the horse to a stop and quickly turned in the leather saddle, my clothes bending and hugging me in a horrible, uncomfortable way in horrible, uncomfortable places. My eyes caught a collapsed horse and rider, the man dressed in a stone black tunic and blood red pants. His sword, which I knew was molded out of the dark steel that was too abundant in our country, was strewn across the ground haphazardly, and even from here I could see the frost that accumulated on the soldier, his weapon, and his horse. Turning the steed and urging it forward the quickest I could, I ordered the men away from the soldiers body. I hopped down from the steed, only receiving a grunt from my rough detachment from the saddle, and bent towards the body. My men formed a relative circle around me, the crunching and sifting of snow under their leather boots repetitive and monotonous. No one spoke as I languidly removed his scarf from the crackling and bordering on shattering skin of his nose and mouth. His whole face was blistered and black, bulbous, red swelling around the corners of his lips, which were white as the ice that made his tongue enlarge to the point where it poked out of the frostbitten skin. It was Richard Long, a transferred soldier from out east that was sent as a peace offering to our King. A tear pulled at my eye, but, knowing I couldn't let the tears show, I clamped my teeth on my tongue and swallowed numerous times. "It's Long," I muttered, still not trusting my own voice in front of my men though I knew they had to know. "Gather his belongings and put them in his pack. Wrap his body in his blankets to prevent any more mutilations of his body. After you're done, set up camp and set up individual fires. Keep them contained though. I don't want anyone to burn to death in this damn blizzard."

-0-

After all of the rugged, unprepared tents were set up – circular and close together, with one massive fire in the center and separate ones seen in between the tents – I set up my own, further from the rest, isolated even from Raymond and John. There was only a small fire at the center of my too-big tent, the burning wood crackling and filling the tent with a disgusting smoke smell that was almost suffocating me in the animal-skin house. Finally tired of breathing in the smoke, I opened up the back flap of the tent, the one facing away from the others' tents, and walked outside, disregarding the supposed chill that everyone else felt but I was strangely immune to. The only thing covering me was the military uniform that was issued to my upon being promoted to Captain, the jacket open to reveal a bandage covering my entire torso, and the high riding boots halfway unlaced. I brought my eyes to the blizzard that had killed so many of my men just in the past few days. I felt hatred towards it. It was all that filled my heart, even when a small black form appeared against the horrifying murder we were trapped in. I squinted my eyes to attempt to see it better, to know what it was, when my hand met the hilt of my sword in preparation of an attack. Then I realized that it was a bird, no not a bird, a hawk, a messenger most likely. My fingers gripped the handle tighter as my head rose to meet the hawk dead on. I lifted my right arm, the bird of prey landing softly and swiftly on my forearm. A tube with Arendelle's crest rested on his back, supported by harness straps around the base of his wings. I removed my hand from the steel of my hilt and removed the top of the message carrier, extracting the rolled up parchment. Thinking of the good of the bird, I bowed down to enter the tent, knowing it was warmer, even if just slightly, near the miniature fire. I set the hawk on the back of a foldable chair near the crate imitating a desk for the papers from King Joseph directing where we were to go and what we were to do. Unraveling the parchment, I noticed it was formed in beautiful calligraphy, and for a moment I was confused as to if it was handwritten or printed. Following further inspection, I realized that it was handwritten, most likely by the Queen herself, since the little port town most likely wouldn't be able to afford writing tutors to their children, and only the only noble that resided permanently in the small country was the Queen. I sat sideways in the chair, making sure not to disturb the obsidian black hawk.

"_It has come to my attention that the Obsidian Army is trapped in the blizzard that permanently surrounds Arendelle, my country. I am truly sorry that you have been put under the stress and horror that the storm has most likely forced upon you. In a chance to reconcile for the suffering, I'm offering a place of refuge for yourself and your army. My castle has more than enough rooms to accommodate you and the other commanding officers._

_If you are to accept this offer, I would be more than happy to provide you with board and food until you wish to depart._

_Please respond as quickly as possible, in any way that best fits you,_

_ Queen Anna of Arendelle."_

I lifted my eyes and was met with the beady, unforgiving pupils of the hawk, his eyes boring into mine with a horrid knowledge of my decision, something I still did not yet know. With his small, intrusive eyes, he somehow whispered, "Now, now, you must go now, Knight, before the offer collapses." Without hesitation, I took up the message and the bird, haphazardly clasping the buttons on my overcoat and tucking the leather laces of my boots into the tongue, before I grabbed my riding gloves and slipped them on. I exited the tent and looked around. The sound of snoring and billowing, unforgiving wind was the only one I could hear. I set the hawk off without a message, knowing that my arrival would be enough of an answer to the Queen. Seeing no men wandering about, I tucked the message into an inner pocket located in the left breast of my coat and removed my left glove. A stallion erupted from the ice as I waved my bare hand, looking something akin to a blooming as it tore itself from the snow, shaking its head as if it were throwing snow off its mane. The steed was composed of crystalized ice, formed from my own fingers and thoughts, and I thought it beautiful. Mounting it, I stroked the horse's neck lovingly, as if it were my own child, since it was in a twisted and perhaps demeaning way. How was it possible that a curse born of my own blood could be possible of creating such an awesome beast, such an inspiring beauty? I sighed and pushed the thought away, fearful of what the self-depreciating thoughts could possible do to my current focus.

I put my legs into a surprisingly comfortable area of the steed and ordered him forward quietly, conscious of my men behind me, who were trained to wake at even the softest sound. The horse – Life of The Death, I decided to name him, in respect for the storm that had taken so many of my men – surged forward through the snow and ice, somehow aware of the wariness that pervaded my mind about the situation. A grunt escaped Life's throat before he again shook his head. His eyes, mere holes in the collection of shards that composed his head, met mine and it were as if he were smiling with his eyes, as if he were projecting his feelings into my mind's eye, making sure I knew that he knew me, because he was an extension of me, even if I thought the magic that created him was a curse. He turned away and kept his pace, more like a horse in the wintry weather than my real horse was.

After we were a suitable distance away from the camp, the campfires nothing but specks against the fog that was created by the horror that was unadulterated nature, Light of The Death began to gallop, unhindered by the snow that reached his knobby knees, cutting through the sparkling white powder like it wasn't even there, like he was racing through a field of wild flowers in the pastures of the west countries. After just a few minutes, we reached the woods surrounding the fjord, the bulb of wind that I conjured around me protecting me from the thorns and swift branches that threatened my skin as Light of The Death sped through the wood, intent on getting us to the castle before the moon hit its peak in the now clear night sky. Emerging from the forest which was strangely empty of all wildlife, we crashed into the city, Light of The Death silent against the cobblestone of the worn streets and eventually the bridge leading to Arendelle's castle.

Once reaching the gates, Light of The Death vanished and I was standing, alone and cold and wet (from my body heat against Light of The Death), poised to knock on the grand oak doors which were decorated by beautifully scripted crocuses, it's native flower. Before I could tap the strong wood and alert the guards of my presence, the one on my right opened just enough for a maid with a face in the shape of a heart and eyes of chocolate and hazelnut to poke her head out, look out behind me, eyes wary of any who might see. "Enter, Sir, and please hurry, none must see you. They might think the wrong thoughts." Nodding, I entered, bringing my arms close to my body to avoid touching the door, not wanting to cause any inconveniences to the woman. I was unclean and did not want to dirty her, the Queen's, I mean, property and belongings.

I followed the maid throughout the halls of stone, various walls covered with portraits of past rulers and miscellaneous gardens, lakes, fields, cottages, and the like, which were purely exquisite and masterfully crafted. As she led me along the expensive-looking rug, most likely from Corona, Arendelle's sister country, I took the chance to prepare myself for an audience with a queen. My promotion from private to sergeant, from sergeant to officer, from officer to lieutenant, and from lieutenant to captain was staggering in its speed, truly knocking me senseless once I gained my sentience completely. I did not even believe myself fully prepared to deal with the political duties that were required of Captains and Colonels and Generals. I had no proper training when it came to working with the royals, it was only when working with spineless boys who wielded wooden swords that I was ordered to turn to men with crossbows and swords of steel, iron, and sometimes obsidian that I was acutely aware of what I was doing and trusted my mouth and tongue. When I was turned to deal with the Kings, Queens, Princes, Princesses, Dukes, Duchesses, Lords and whomever else, I was a stuttering, heaping mess of pig feces. I would shake in place, wring my hands and wrists, pick at my lips and refuse to make eye contact. Of course, I was superb when it came to strategy and training and tactics, but talking in front of a group of higher-ups… I was… mediocre to say the least.

It was too soon when we arrived at the standoffish gates that were engraved with intricate designs of summer and flowers and the sun and every possible thing that you could associate with warmth and heat. My heart grew warmer even at the sight of the silver strewn willow trees and the sapphire and amethyst crocuses that grew at their base and they reminded me of my home, my true home, not King Joseph's country of Galaway. My home, where it was always warm, even in the horrendous winter, brought me comfort to the deepest cave inside, easing my hands away from the bloodied skin on my lips and slowing the shaking that infested them so soon before. The memory of tackling boys and proving myself with long, swift twigs and sticks of oak or ash reminding me of the pain and suffering I was forced to endure to get to the place I was now. I remembered the feeling of the knotted wood as the maid knocked and pushed the right door open, poking her head into the ray of light that was revealed and was blinding to my eyes that had gotten used to the darkness of the hallway. After a few mumbled words and a soft, simple hum, the woman moved to the side and fingered the door open just an inch or two wider. "You may enter, Captain," she breathed, though I don't recall disclosing my rank. I nodded in thanks before squeezing past her and into the doorway, still conscious of my uncleanliness and the pristine condition of the castle. Upon entering the long room, more like a hall, I realized it was the throne room, a blood red carpet rolled out to meet the base of a bejeweled silver throne, brightened with candles attached to the wall with elegant fixtures.

Though calm, I was still hesitant about approaching the Queen, who was impossibly far away and almost seemed to get further as I tried to bring my eyes to her hair. Or was it her eyes that I was trying to meet? _What color are they, blue or sapphire? _"Please, Captain," she whispered, the empty hall echoing the sound with a grand type of mimicry and making the purr cup my ears with a warm familiarity I couldn't quite place. "Come closer, I would hate to yell at someone as…" she waved a hand that was reminiscent of stained glass flowers meticulously placed in a hand molded from pure white porcelain set upon a mahogany dresser. "…Prestigious as yourself." A jump in my heart pushed me forward, keeping the steps of my boots soft against the carpet that caught my eye with its obviously foreign design and embroidery. I met the end of the rug, gold, silver, ruby, and emerald threads signaling at me to fall to my still wet though mysteriously warm knee. "No, no, no, Captain," she chuckled, her luscious voice like melted chocolate against strawberries. "Rise up, off of your knees, please, Sir." I followed her orders, if only in respect, but still avoided eye contact. "You mustn't act like you are below me, Sir, for you aren't. We are equals, if anything." She was a bubbly queen, the happiest I ever came into contact with, truly, and she was the first one to ever make me feel like I _was_ an equal, like I _was_ someone, a real person, even in front of royal blood. "Believe that I speak the truth."

"You called on me to speak of refuge, Queen, not of false equality between scum and precious stones." I was glad, however, of the lie she had told just to me. It made me feel whole some way, like I actually had a chance of being more than a pawn at the head of one of the greatest armies in the Great Known Nations. I knew, however, it was false hope, planted by all of the royals, no matter how precious they seemed. "I, of course, the scum, you the stone, Queen," I corrected, lest she take it the wrong way. "I simply wish to know the terms of your… whatever it is you brought me here for, Queen."

"Anna," she – Anna – corrected, standing from her throne and stepping down the three beautiful steps leading up to it, her forest green, strapless dress billowing like the flaps of the tent I left behind in the storm. "Call me Anna. It won't do to keep formalities when there's no one to force us into them." Her smile was honest and innocent and inviting, not unlike a child's when it's begging for food or drink or refuge.

"Queen Anna," I began, immediately taken a step back from her step forward. "Still though, you are avoiding the subject as if it were a poisonous snake or rabid bear." A humorless grin pulled at my lips, which were still pink and fleshy, no matter how the wind bit at them, and and my hands shook slightly before I attached them to my belt, not wanting her to see my nervousness. "Why, when you were the one to offer me, my army _refuge_? We are a threat to you and your people. We were sent to extract you from the throne and replace you with myself. We were sent to take over Arendelle, your home and you respond by giving it to us?" Queen Anna simply smiled, showing her teeth like a child.

"The best way to defeat an enemy," she muttered as she flicked the collar of my military jacket with a slim index finger, "Is to make him your friend. At least, that's what my Father always said when we would play chess and he would win only by giving me cake. Obviously, that would distract me from the game, but it wasn't like I was paying attention anyway." She laughed, but I was still frightened of her too happy, too accepting attitude towards me, towards the situation.

"This isn't chess. This isn't cake. Queen Anna, don't you realize –"

"I am fully aware of the situation, Captain Elsia," she snapped, her spine straightening like flash freezing water. "I am _not_ an _infant_, no matter what people may say. Do you understand me?" My chin met my chest in shame at even coming close to suggesting that Anna had the intelligence and processing capabilities of a child. A moment of cursory, painful silence gripped my lungs and stomach painfully, and I slowly wondered if she felt its clawed tendrils as well as I could. "Forgive my outburst," the Queen answered after two minutes exactly (do not point it out or poke fun, I was uncomfortable and the clock was meticulously placed where I could see and watch it with the eyes of the coal colored hawk which had brought me here in the first place). "It's just," she placed a pale, unbranded, hand on her equally unblemished face before she turned away, eyes closed doors that blocked the gaze of the teal irises behind them, a sigh like a fresh spring breezy escaping once-painted lips. "Everyone thinks I'm unable, that I'm an invalid, just because I'm young." She growled out the words in a weak, pitying way, and I felt my head tilt to the side in delirious wonder at the striking queen. She did appear young, but I could see the stress of bearing the weight of an entire, enormous country pressing down on the thin white shoulders of the girl, bending them so she appeared to have a hunch, but any who actually inspected the woman would notice that it was not biological, but worldly and unnatural. I longed to place my bare hand on the skin and remove the hours and hours of time spent bent over numerous amounts of horribly stacked legal papers. Instead of doing so, however, I gripped the leather of my belt to the point where the stiff skin bent in my palms and pressed painfully against my skin. I cursed myself internally for thinking of the Queen in such a way as I chewed on my bottom lip and kept my eyes on her back and waist – not any lower, I hold some dignity and respect – whilst she retraced her path back to her throne. "Twenty isn't horribly young, is it, Captain?" she asked as she turned to face me.

"Younger than I, Queen," I muttered, raising my head and, in turn, my eyes, to meet her inquisitive and slightly insecure gaze. "But only by a few years and look where I am." My hand detached itself from my side and gestured towards my uniform, namely my medal which made it known that I was Captain. "Great things do not come to those who are grey," I whispered, though the hall made it seem like I was shrieking from the very tip of the North Mountain, and the Queen turned to sit on her grand chair.

"Who do they come to then?"

"Those who are deserving of it, I assume," I shrugged, the twin sheaths at my side rattling against my belt and their connections as my overcoat leapt up, synchronizing with my shoulders. I wished to go back to the topic of my men, the rising of the sun a point of anxiety in my mind since I knew that once its fiery rays touched the pegs that punctured the ice and snow, holding the tents in place, the massive army would awaken, properly handle those who had died in the night and attempt to move on. I also knew that the first thing Raymond and John would do was check on me, see if I had made it through the night. "Queen Anna," I muttered as I bowed, low and more or less parallel to the ground, trying to portray respect as much as possible. "If we could please attend to the matter at hand –"

"Why are you so focused on finishing this as fast as possible, Sir?"

"My men are dying, Queen," I snapped, only my head bending to look at her in her magnificent eyes. "To put it bluntly, every minute that I stand here quelling your insecurities, one more man of mine freezes to death."

"I apologize for that," she interrupted.

"I don't need an apology, Queen, I need action. If your… _reconciliation_ for the loss is true, please, _please_ let it be now."

Another tense silence pervaded the minuscule space between us.

"Your men will have to agree to the terms of my country," her voice held something behind it, an ulterior motive perhaps, but I could not quite figure it out.

"I will try to make them see sense."

"And if they do not follow the laws, regulations, and cultural respects?"

"A suitable punishment will be enforced."

"What kind of punishment do you find 'suitable', Captain?" The sugar cane that once was her voice was now more like coarse salt against the fresh sole of a boot on the cobblestone roadways, and suddenly, I knew. This country, this little port in the middle of nowhere, was really her home and was really her love.

"They will be dealt with personally be me, Queen." I rose from the bow, but put my eyes to the ground. "I will do whatever I see fit."

The queen hummed and tapped her thick nails on the arm of the throne. "You all must pledge allegiance."

"I was under the impression that this was only a temporary arrangement." My eyelids and brow drew together in a glare that I dared not turn to the royal.

"I've changed my mind. Forever aligned and given a place safe from the storm or no allegiance and you all die, bit by finger-sized bit. The choice is ultimately yours, Captain."

And what a choice it was. Either I pledge to Arendelle, along with the willing men in my battalion, and personally behead and murder those who disagree, eventually weeding out those precious diamond-men whom will follow their commanding officer faithfully and without hesitation, or I decline and let all of them, jewels and otherwise, rot into nothing. Both options put too much blood on my hands, but only one truly gave salvation.

Eternities seemed to pass before I sank to my right knee, palms to the stone just above the rug I had been so enamored with before. Sweat stung at my forehead and the beginning hairs of my eyebrows. Tears stung at the area where my eyelids touch the slick flesh of my pupil and a rock grew furiously larger and larger at the peak of my throat. I swallowed to rid myself of the guilt, but nothing would dislodge it. "Your Majesty," I choked out, a tear trickling down over my lid, into the crevice between my nose and cheek, and eventually teasing the broken and bleeding wounds on my lip. "I pledge alliance, allegiance, and complete devotion to you and your country, turned mine, of Arendelle. I will only serve it and its people. This, I swear for all eternity."

My heart ached in my chest, cold and almost still.

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**So what do you guys think? Should I keep on? Does everything flow okay? Talk to me, I like hearing from you all, it makes me happy that people actually like the stuff I do. **

**Review, follow, favorite, whichever.**

**Love you all,**

**S**


	2. A Ride and A Slide

**Gonna be honest, I am so, so, so, so, sorry this is so late. I told myself, "I'm gonna update in a week! I'm gonna do weekly updates! I'm gonna write a thousand words each day so I can do weekly updates!"**

**Forgive me.**

**This one is a bit longer, anyway, to try and make up for it though!**

**Does that work? Hopefully it does.**

**Anyway, happy reading!**

**-S**

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The crystal edge of my blade pressed dangerously against the man's throat, dragging against his protruding jugular just enough to seduce two drops of black, syrup-like liquid to pool in the indention of the double-bladed sword. I contained the frost that begged to burn and mutilate and choke the now-traitor. Something akin to the power of torture was implanting a dizzying high into my bones and heart and mind and although I hated, despised, loathed it, it was stubborn, resigned to staying until I was completely poisoned with it, willing to kill any person who stood up against my orders, no matter who they were. Unfortunately for the adrenaline-type rush, though, the man did not cry or pray for forgiveness or beg for me to stop, no. He simply sat there on his knees, palms to the tops of his thighs, eyes glued to his friends who watched on with anxiety and sadness in their eyes. This angered me beyond reason and instead of simply slicing his throat and letting him bleed out on the lessening snow, I removed my blade from his neck, elaborately swung it over my head, and embedded it into the muscle and skin between his neck and shoulder. The sword didn't cut straight through, which was intended, and the pain of having my ice cold blade cutting his muscles, bones, veins, and tendons made his face turn up in a scowl and a pitiful scream tear from his barely open mouth. My neck tightened in slight disgust at the black blood that was being pumped out of the wound past my sword and spilling onto the ground, but mainly I felt… pleased. He was the first example, probably of many, and it would do well if the men could watch him suffer.

I extracted the sword by pulling it forward, slicing his body even more and persuading more of the red life-liquid to meet the open air, and wiped it on the arm of my coat (I had more than enough and even if I didn't, the Queen was sure to give us new uniforms), ridding it of the traitorous filth. "I want Roy to be an example," I proclaimed, making my thoughts and directions painfully clear against the sobs I could just barely hear in the audience. "All who defy me will be labeled as a traitor and killed immediately. All who defy the Queen will be labeled as a traitor and killed immediately. All who defy –"

"All who defy King Joseph will be labeled as a traitor and killed immediately!" A rush of footsteps and grunts of men, along with the horrendously unneeded outburst, signaled yet another foolish and impulsive soldier. The unsheathing of a blade was clear against the now calm breeze, and as I turned my head, I saw a slight, dexterous-looking boy, I guessed he must've just barely met the age criteria, lunging towards me with the blade poised for a single thrust. A smug grin pulled at my lips as I grabbed my sheath just above the opening and spun to face him. I bent my wrist so that when the tip of his blade was about to pierce my gut, it instead slid smoothly into the sheath. With his lungs breathing my exhales, I twisted the sword out of his hand, threw it to the ground, grabbed his black hair by the roots, exposed his neck, placed the cutting edge of my sword against his jugular, and sliced his throat open with the whole length of my sword. Blood gushed not only on my weapon, but also on my face, neck, and the top half of my already ruined coat, and I had to refrain from wiping the boiling hot and distasteful liquid away from my mouth. I knew I had to leave it there, since it would only serve to prove how serious my standing with the Queen was. And although I hated how sticky and strangely metallic it felt on my skin, my new alliance kept my hands from cleaning it. My eyes, however, still twitched with immense amounts of disgust and horror.

I dropped the young corpse and turned to the rest of my men, my breath slight and trembling, my eyes wide in horror at what I'd done. "All who defy me will be labeled as a traitor and killed immediately," I repeated, mechanically cleaning my blade on my sleeve. I stepped over to my sheath and grabbed it like I had previously, quickly making a slicing motion towards the two dead bodies behind me, unintentionally sending the sword's hilt into the back of the younger one's head. Not sparing the two carcasses a second glance, I returned my blade to its rightful home before willing it to disappear entirely in its case. "If you don't give two ever-living _shits_ about the Queen or Arendelle, you should at least consider me." I turned around, making sure I spoke to each and every one of the men who I grown close to over the past months. "I did this for _your_ own good, not mine!"

"I don't see why," a voice spoke up from my left, grumbling and deep. "The supplies would've arrived –"

"_There is no supplies, damn it!_" I screeched, turning on the oblivious hulk of a man. Unperturbed, I grabbed his collar, though it was quite a ways above my head, and pulled him down so his shit-brown eyes met mine. "There never was. Galaway cut its ties to us a long time 'go." Gasps and murmurs erupted from all around me as I let go of the man, reminding me of the ignorance and blatant apathy that the soldiers carried at their hips in lieu of swords. "Are you all so blind?" I begged, spinning wildly where I stood. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the Arendelle horses arriving to direct us to the castle on a path that wouldn't alert the whole castle city. "The country you would so willingly give your life for has left you for dead! Frozen and mangled creatures beyond repair, they don't care!" I pressed my hands against my chest ferociously, caving in slightly, begging them with my body to see truth. "I care!" I gasped. "I've always cared! I gave everything to lead you in this… this attempt at dethroning the Queen. They were the ones who turned their back to you all, not me. They were the ones who saw nothing but chess pawns when they looked at you, not me. They were the ones who said 'Leave them to die in that blizzard', _not me_!" I ceased my rampage as the horses came closer, and as I looked upon them I realized the Queen herself was leading the group. I straightened as I brought my eyes completely to the royal, giving her graceful aura my unbridled attention.

She was dressed in a dark, deep, forest green dress, much like the one she wore when I first saw her in her throne room. This one was thicker though, more accustomed to the all-encompassing chill of the storm we had just barely left. A long, thick leather cloak rested on her shoulders, no doubt there to protect her frail skin from any damage. I silently ordered my men to make a path for her before I moved away from the dead bodies, attempting, I guess, to remove myself from the accusations that I had killed them even though the blood on my face obviously proved otherwise. I met her horse head on and the animals took one whiff of me before grunting and turning away against the Queen's wishes. "Easy, easy," she whispered as she patted the horse's neck. "He's just a dirty man, Flurry, relax." Her eyes scanned over me again, not leaving a detail untouched by her eyes. "Very, _very_ dirty," she amended.

"I had to clean up my mess," I muttered as I moved out of the way of the obviously agitated horse. Queen Anna shrugged as her eyes followed me, her lips pulled in a way that hid her smile. "I was expecting you later, Your Highness."

"I was growing restless," she replied, her tone plush like down but still holding her authority. Her eyebrows came together in a twitch before she gave me a pointed gaze, reminding me of the two guards at her side a few steps back. Placing one foot in front of the other, I bowed – low like I did last time – and kept my eyes to the ground before rising. From the corner of my eye, I noticed that none of my men looked as if they even attempted to move.

"What is wrong with all of you? Do you have no manners?" I went and grabbed the collar of the closest soldier and shoved him back. Though I didn't want Queen Anna to see me as angry as I was, I couldn't help the fury that was bubbling up under my skin at the outright apathy they were displaying. "I honestly don't care if you are willing to give your life for Arendelle." I watched as hundreds of eyes widened in shock. "By the absolute least, you should be willing to give your life for me and what I stand for." Many of their eyes dropped to the ground in shame. "It's true, Arendelle might not be your country but I _am_ your Captain." With that, a man, James I think his name was, looked me in the eye with a determined look and bowed with his knees to the ground. He was followed by Martin, his partner, then by Gregory, who was followed by Adam and Joshua, and eventually my whole battalion was on their knees not for the Queen, I knew, but for me. My mouth was agape, even when each of them rose one by one, each individual man looking at me with a specific brand of trust and respect. I kept up eye contact as long as I could before I finally had to break it, extending my hand and quietly asking Raymond for my horse. He placed the leather reins in my gloved hand without a word, only a smile, and turned to the rest of my men, barking out orders I couldn't quite comprehend, my bones numb with shock. I mounted the steed and turned away, my eyes on its achromatic mane.

"They really do respect you, Captain Elsia," Anna grinned from my side. She was bent unladylike over the front of her saddle, arms crossed under her head as she lay on the horse's nape. The redhead bobbed up and down in synchronization with the horse as she smiled up at me, teeth almost as white as the fading snow around us. "It's admirable, really, how much they look up to you."

"They fear me," I growled, releasing the reins and placing my clasped hands on the saddle horn. "That's all. Most of them don't even like me. What you saw was simply a show of loyalty to the oath they took when I was first took the position. That's when they all hated me. I had to earn their respect through even more sweat and tears than I shed getting there." I exhaled deeply before meeting her eyes again. "What you see isn't love or adoration or admiration. It's fear for what I might do or say. It's abhorrence, not respect, Queen."

"I think the real abhorrence here is the fact that you can't see the fact that they _do_ respect you. Maybe it's not in a way that you're used to, but they do." She straightened her back and looked ahead, quickly stopping her horse and turning to the guards. I followed lead, curiosity piqued seeing as we were nowhere near the castle. "Guards, please take Elsia's men to the barracks. Make sure they have the finest bunks and give them a full meal upon arrival. When they're all settled, go back to the castle."

"Would you like someone to accompany you, Your Majesty?" a man with greying hair and goatee grumbled, his horse impatient and pawing at the ground.

"I think I'll be fine. I have Elsia. Bye now," she waved them off and flicked her horse into a quick trot leaving me to rush after her, my own steed lagging from fatigue. She turned back after a momentary pause. "Having problems?" I shook my head and rubbed the horse's beige neck, spurring him forward and finally catching up to the Queen. "Your horse is tired. You need to let it rest." A pause. "Come now, we can double on mine, he can take it."

"Y-Your Highness," I stammered, gripping the horn harder and harder. "I-I don't think –"

"I order it."

I sighed as she brought her horse closer to mine, and I knew she knew I couldn't disobey. _Damn these royals and their almighty power_, I remember thinking. "Shouldn't I lead?" I wondered with a wave of my hand when she made no attempt to move to allow me in the front of a saddle.

"My horse, my lead," was all she said as she turned her gaze to the space between her horse's ears. Uneasy, I slowly worked my legs out of the stirrups and onto the saddle. I gestured for her to bring the horse in closer and slipped my left leg behind her slowly, noticing that the saddle was just big enough for two people. I held back a sickening laugh at the knowledge that, yes, the Queen of Arendelle planned to share a horse with me. I lowered myself (somehow gently) behind the Queen's thin, lanky body and felt my face and neck grow irrefutably hot, like lava had worked its way into my pores and decided to throw a get together for every other burning substance. My hips and stomach were pressed intimately against the Queen's back, rocking in tune with the steed's steps. I turned to my horse and let go of the reins, afterwards watching it race off towards the castle like it wasn't in the least bit tired. I whispered a curse before turning to the front, only to meet a breath-taking set of mischievous teal eyes looking back. It was then that I knew she knew I knew. "What I'm about to show you is a secret known only to the past Kings and Queens of Arendelle." It was a whisper amidst the roaring gale we were travelling against, yet I heard its ferocity and secrets.

"Then why do you show it to me?" My voice was becalming, taken aback from the advent of the Queen's attitude. My fingers gripped the wool of my pants in a tight exasperation and anxiety. I did not know what this 'secret' was, or what it entailed, but I knew deep in my torso, near my heart and lungs where it accumulated and solidified into a crystallized cyst, that it would change me, change Anna, and change our relationship. Why, though, I didn't know.

The horse kept its pace easily, even with two persons, and the gusts that attempted to whisk my cloak and jacket away held its previous ferocity and truculence as we traversed through the forest, heading to the inscrutable destination. "As my personal guard, I must have outright trust in you." She turned to the front after addressing me, acting as if she hadn't just appointed me as her first and foremost. At first, I did not process it, mainly because she did not give me time to, but after just a few minutes, the information finally sunk in.

"Your Majesty? May I ask if you could repeat that last part?" My hands seized my leather belt and squeezed in a repetitive and anxious manner. She turned unexpectedly and entrapped me in her teal traps.

"No," she hushed, her lips in a too-close proximity to mine. "You heard me just fine, I know you did. You may however keep your voice down. We're almost there." She went back to her previous position and flicked the reins, urging her horse into a forest that sat strategically between the permanent blizzard and the capital city of Arendelle. The horse became tense under my legs, I noticed, the further we ventured through the evergreens and barren oak trees. I attempted to sooth him by stroking his hindquarters, but the animal just shivered and continued to prepare to sprint away. I exhaled deeply before pulling myself closer to the Queen as inconspicuously as I could, basking in the warmth that her body seemed to naturally emanate. Against my intentions, she may have noticed, because she then asked, "Are you cold, Captain?" I chuckled before straightening my back, trying my hardest to stop touching her.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," I sighed out. "I forgot my place."

"Odd," she murmured, scooting back into me rather harshly. "Because I'm absolutely _freezing_," she reached behind her and took my wrist in her palm and removed it from my belt. In less than a second, she wrapped my arm around her waist, connecting my front to her back intimately. My eyebrows rose in surprise as my jaw dropped in shock. I stuttered and fell over my tongue which thought that it was a grand time to swell and stop working completely. The Queen simply laughed before she collapsed into me. "It's well below zero. I'm surprised that as many of your men survived as they did. Especially without performing any… indescribable acts," Her voice dropped to a whisper that I barely heard over the whipping wind. I breathed out as much as a laugh as I could through my uncooperative tongue and closed up throat.

"You haven't met Raymond or John, have you?" Oh wonderful, now my mouth decides to work. My arm unintentionally tightened around her Majesty. "From what I heard, they performed quite a few 'indescribable acts'."

"They…?" She twisted to look at me incredulously. I simply laughed and shrugged.

"Apparently, I mean, I don't know. I don't wish to see that."

"See what? Don't you have the same… say, _parts_, for lack of a better word?" A tense silence followed her words where I stared at the back of her head, eyes wider than they had been before and my heart racing in my chest, cold but pounding into my lungs.

I shouldn't have been hesitating. I should have been laughing and assuring her that, yes, I did have the same "parts", and that I had no qualms about seeing Raymond and/or John naked or… whatever else they might do to pass the time. However, I was silent and I _was _hesitating and somehow I wanted to say no, I didn't have the same parts and I was a liar and a cheat and I shouldn't be trusted and she should have me executed right then and there. Suddenly, the lack of a bulge in my trousers was painfully noticeable and caused me to attempt backing away from Queen Anna, only to have her press herself into yet again. I was made horrifyingly aware of the reinforced bandages containing my breasts and forming my torso into something akin to masculinity.

I was made horrifyingly aware of the fact that I was a woman.

My words were, yet again, stuttered out and messy as I whispered, "Yes, of course, but they're my two best men. I don't need to know or see what goes on when the wind blows too hard."

"I assume the wind wouldn't be the only one blowing hard," she replied after just a second before turning around, a sly smile upon her lips. My face grew warm at her implications – I _was _in the army, of course, so I did comprehend the innuendos – as I vacillatingly extended my other arm to become secured around her waist. Queen Anna simply smiled, though I could detect hints of a blush adorning her freckled cheeks. "Oh!" she shouted out unexpectedly, twisting ferociously enough that I was almost thrown from the saddle. "I almost missed it! Damn my one track mind." She pulled the horse to a stop and redirected it to turn towards a deep crevasse that stood out like freshly shed blood on the pure but thinning snow. "Now, it's going to be a bit icy, but if you overlook that, it should be a pretty easy walk."

"Your Highness?" She couldn't possibly mean we were going to…

"Come on, Elsia," She jested, ushering me off the steed and into the soft, wet snow near the underground cavern. "Use your brain a bit, won't you?" Dismounting swiftly, her skirts billowing around her in an embellished way, the Queen maneuvered through the snow in her most likely thin boots until she came to my side. "Surely you have one."

"I've learned to never trust my own intuitions when in the presence of a royal." My breath caught as I realized how boorish the statement must've sounded. "Royalty, I mean. In the presence of royalty, like yourself, Your Highness." I turned away from her and berated myself silently.

_You just called her 'a royal' you piss pot! What in God's name is wrong with you? Did you think it would go unnoticed by her? She's probably spent years analyzing shit mouths like you and has it down to a science. Wait, hush, I think she's speaking to you, you daft fuck._

"Pardon?" my hands shook minutely as I whispered the words into my shoulder.

"You're really hard of hearing today, aren't you Captain?" _Am I truly still a Captain?_

I sent her a meek smile and a halfhearted shrug when she tied her horse to the tree nearest to the fissure. "I suppose I'm simply lost in thought," I breathed.

"Well, since my dear Captain decided not to listen," she laughed, taking my hand before turning back and smiling in that childish way that was unbefitting of a graceful person like herself. "I'll simply let you observe." Breaking our gaze, she hopped into the crevasse, obviously not worried about dangerous things like what exactly was down there, if there was anything to catch us after the fall, or if I was even prepared for the leap. Relying only on instincts, I caught my glove on my belt's buckle, ripping it – and some of the skin underneath it – off once I realized that the drop was large enough to cause some serious damage. I glanced over to see Anna's eyes scrunched shut and finally made my decision to release a cloud of light and dry snow towards the bottom where we would most likely land, but also where it was make sense that snow would fall. I tucked Queen Anna into my front and turned midair so I was the one who would take the brunt of the pain. If I measured right, it should be just like –

Everything went dark as I went under the surface of the white powder, and I remember hoping that Anna was still above the snow bank because it was indefinitely difficult to breathe. I also remember wanting to stay in to now blue-ish haze that I'd created. It felt familiar. Not the type of familiar that home was, with its never-ending pastures, looming and poetic weeping willows trees, winding-snake streams, and my mother (above all, of course), but a type of familiarity. It was the kind that made you nostalgic _about_ your home, the kind that made you look back into your past with open arms and unfiltered eyes rather than apprehension and disappointment and anger and a solemn heart. It sent shivers down my spine – though now that I think about it, that could've been a reaction from the way Anna's hands and legs were tangled with mine and how her forehead pressed closely against my chest, halfway in the bank and halfway out. Remembering my place and responsibilities, I worked my way up out of the slightly colored snow, holding Anna to my chest, making sure she wasn't hurt. "My Queen?"

This seemed to stir the royal, as she sprung up from me with a smile and maniacal laughter. "Just like a pillow!" she cried out, placing her palms on my chest to help herself up, unintentionally placing more pressure on my tied up breasts. I groaned softly in my throat until she sat straight, noticing my discomfort. Truly though, the feeling of her hips straddling my own, moving and applying pressure every time she twisted around, investigating the cavern that was larger than I originally thought. But in hindsight, I didn't have time to really think about how big the cavern was before Anna decided to throw me into it. "See? I think ahead." An enormous smile adorned her face as her eyes met mine in a sort of youthful trust and hilarity. I tore my gaze from the place where our bodies connected and trace her face with them. They memorized the way her eyes had miniature grinning-wrinkles at their corners, how the splay of freckles on her cheeks and her nose were more stunning than all the stars and galaxies in a clear midnight sky, the way her nose glided into a soft button, the twitching of her lips into a smile as I stared at her as if I was dumb, the mere depth of her azure irises and how they sunk hooks into my skin painlessly and dragged me into them, as if they wanted to drown me in _her_, and it was all without my consent. Past the haze that the Queen unintentionally put me into, I felt my lips fall open and stretch into a kind of half smile at her, at her smug grin, at her eyes, at her skin, at her everything.

A tug the muscles that controlled my heart was the only response when Queen Anna dismounted me in the smoothest way imaginable, dusting herself of the pure white snow I created from my own fingertips. I followed suit, blindly chasing after her as I made sure my swords and pistol were in check. We were ambling around a mysterious underground cave, after all. I kept close to the Queen, eyeing every dark corner or crack or barely moving shadow, attempting to be even slightly prepared to protect the women who granted my men and I safety and protection and, most importantly, a home. I knew in the bones of my forearm and the vertebrae of my spine that not even my own handmade, crystallized blade that I crafted from the strongest, most invulnerable ice would do against what the Queen was leading me to.

The cavern was… strange, to say the least, but thank God it was wide enough for the Queen and I to walk comfortably. Although, it did leave an irreplaceable shiver in my gut and left my hand shaking over the handle of my "sword" as we trekked. A slick substance seemed to cover the walls – could they really be called walls? – and though it was cold (like Queen Anna had said earlier, well below freezing) the putty like liquid was not frozen, just _slick_. The walls were craggy and shaped irregular, almost as if something had _carved_ it out with its teeth or claws, not pickaxes as a man would. No, this cave was no man's. Even more evidence to prove that it belonged to a beast was the scattered corpses – no, most definitely skeletons at this point, so much so that they seemed seconds from erupting into a puff of dangerous dust – and miscellaneous weapons that were haphazardly thrown onto the floor, sometimes skewered on the well placed stalagmites that grew pompously from the floor, rising like the fear-inducing crown upon King Joseph's black mane and sickeningly pale skin (I would say Queen Anna's crown, but she lacked one, strangely, perhaps to make herself more homely with the peasants in her country?). Their mangles maws and black holes that replaced their eyes placed apprehension and despair in my heart, something they now eternally lacked.

I grabbed Anna's hand.

Queen _Anna_, I corrected myself silently, ignoring the royal's snickers and questioning gaze.

"I hate the dead," I hushed, afraid to speak any louder than I absolutely had to. "I hate the secrets they know." She nodded in sympathy, eyes softening (I was shocked that they could become even more enthralling) before placing her index finger on her puckered lips, her teal irises still boring into mine. She went back to paying attention to where she was leading me and I was again left to my own thoughts, which in some cases might've been horrid in every way. However, before I could become too immersed in the empty eyes and gaping mouths of every slain man – maybe woman – I felt Anna's hand squeeze mine and the cave suddenly grew lighter. It was now a kind of daybreak blue, when the sun just barely fingers the thralls of night away, and the tendrils of the spacious azure are grappling at the mountain peaks, attempting their hardest to stay, but the sun's grace pushes the poisonous fingers far away from the earth.

I brought my eyes to the massive stalagmite that tore from the center of a large room – large enough to easily fit two Man 'o Wars at least – like a pyre of the heavens. An immense trail of immaculate, pristine, sparkling to a point, snow (perhaps ice) trailed down it, imitating a spiral staircase in the Grand Hall of the grandest castle in Galaway, but it was not a staircase. I wasn't even sure if it was ice or snow. At the peak of the pretend pyre was a small opening, maybe the size of a colt but no bigger than Anna was wide. It allowed a sparkling array of sunlight to glimmer through, reflecting off of the "snow-ice" and plastering its perverted self onto the thickly-lined mucous-like liquid on the cavern's walls, the images forming magnificent snowflakes which then transformed into flurries when the snow-ice moved.

Wait.

The snow-ice was… moving?

I don't think Anna realized my fright.

"Sir, are you awake?" She tugged my hand so I'd come closer. I didn't want to come closer. I wanted to run far away. I was afraid. "I've brought you someone." Was she sacrificing me? I knew, I _knew_ I shouldn't have trusted another damn royal!

Before I could draw my sword and sever the connection between our hands, the creature's head (?) rose from the tip of the stalagmite, nearest to my closest escape route, and I finally became aware of the fact too late, right as the white creature's eyelids split apart, revealing deep, wise blood ruby eyes that I knew knew too much.

Queen Anna walked me directly into the dragon's den.


	3. Two Heads Are Better Than One?

**I'm just not going to make anymore promises, especially not with our states standardized tests coming up. Updates are probably going to be more irregular than they've been, which is saying something.**

**I'll update when I can, I promise.**

**Oops, another promise. Eh, whatever.**

**Enjoy, you guys!**

**-S**

* * *

"Captain Elsia! Please!" the Queen screeched as she grappled for my hand, which was clenched tightly around the handle of my sword, ready to extract it and cut the beast that was eyeing my with ill-hidden disgust. "He's not going to hurt you!"

"He's a venomous pig eater!" I shouted back. "And you!" grabbing her wrist with my free hand (brown with dried blood), I turned to her, somehow feeling disobeyed and offended, even though I don't know her or who she is or anything else for that matter. "You brought me to him! For what, an easy snack?"

"Those were not my intentions at all!" Her pale and freckled hand settled itself onto my wrist, wrenching it just as tight as mine. "Like I told you," she was close to my face now. I could feel her breath on my lips (honeysuckle, maybe, though those aren't native to this area) and I could piece together and take apart every separate pebble and coloring that created the mosaic in her eyes. I wanted to kiss her. I realized this slowly, my eyes landing on her bright pink lips that were so close to my own. I disregarded the thought as she continued, seeming oblivious of my longing. "You must know my secrets as my personal guard. How can you protect something you never know?" Her voice was just over a whisper and her breaths were just slightly louder than the strange whirring of wind (I certainly hoped it was wind) in the cavern. Close as she was though, only one appropriate thought crossed my mind as our eyes melded together.

_How the hell am I to protect a _dragon_?_

I nodded my head without wanting to. She smiled, whispered thanks, and turned back to the beast resting on the pyre rock. "Forgive me for the Captain's actions, Sir. Certainly you know how he feels." The dragon's eyes bore into me. I felt the blood red irises in my veins and it was as if every time the beast blinked, my heart would beat in tune with the touching of scaled eyelids. My swallows kept pace with his deep breaths taken through his mouth. The flurries upon the wall coincided with the ubiquitous snow storm in my gut. This dragon was inside of me, mentally maybe, and I hated it. I could tell he was flicking through every one of my memories with his acidic-laced, forked, spindled tongue. It burned and seared my brain and heart, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I was literally frozen as he picked my brain apart.

"True," he whispered sickeningly sweet into the cave and into my heart. "_Men _are too often misguided by swords and brutality." My spine shivered at his words and my heart leapt into all sides of my ribcage when I caught sight of his wings.

Wings were an overstatement. They were more off-greyish, misshapen strands of leather clinging hopelessly to thin, translucent skin over obsidian-black bones. His bones, although covered, were pointing out in a haphazard way, as though he'd been tortured in some way, for there was no way a dragon's wing could sustain that much damage purely on accident. The hooks at the tip of his wrists, which usually faced forwards to assist in helping the beasts traverse craggy cliffs, were broken back, as if it were dislocated at some point, and were now pointing back towards the tips of his wing-fingers. The entire length of his wings and part of his shoulders were bare of any scales, revealing see through skin and black veins filled with dead blood. The scales surrounding his mangled wings were coated with his dried blood.

It was pitiful.

When his eyes met mine with an unspoken glare and he attempted to shuffle his wings away, I looked away to Anna whose eyes were already averted. "The Queen calls me Fray," he hissed, extending his head and tilting it to the side. "You may not."

"And why is that?" asked Queen Anna, who finally met Fray's eyes. "He is my guard."

"He is also a liar." His voice was blunt and caused my lungs to deflate as if I'd been hit by a maul with weak armor. I tore my eyes from the Queen and immediately brought my glare to Fray. I wanted to clip his wings, but much good that would do at this point. My hand made its way to my hilt again, and this time Anna didn't stop me. I formed my swords without letting Anna know, though the sudden chill that permeated throughout the cavern could be accounted as a clear indication of my magical production. "_He _is a liar who apparently uses brunt force to earn _his _dominance over others." His eyes never left me. "What a wonderful pick for your personal attendant." Anna again brought her eyes away from the dragon, instead dragging them to the ground, which was strangely clear of the misty scum that plagued the walls. It was, however, plagued with strange markings in the form of runes that I vaguely remembered from my home. If I my memory was correct, which was unlikely since Mother usually kept the runes hidden from view, only inscribing them in small, undeterminable script on unlikely objects in the house (including kitchen utensils in some cases), they were protection runes. The runes were crudely written, wavy in some areas that I don't suppose they should've been, and placed in a haphazard pattern about the floor. They were written deep into the ground, most likely so that no one could simply swipe them away with a movement of their foot. Looking around inconspicuously, I noticed they were everywhere about the cavern, close together and jumbled. Everywhere except the massive stalagmite Fray clung to.

"At least I don't require runes to protect me." It was a weak argument and I knew that if my theory about Fray was correct, it wouldn't hold much of anything against him.

"I'm sure if I wasn't incapacitated I wouldn't require them either," he snarled, his lips rising in rage, showing his unexpectedly black teeth. I flinched at his low growl, which reverberated around the cavern, shaking the walls and causing pebbles to break away from their place and fall to the ground. "Perhaps you know about that." He lifted his head, the plethora of horns that grew from his skull – white, like his scales – scraping the tips on the high ceiling, and pulled his lips back, like he was sending me a smug smile after his taunt. The only problem was the fact that I didn't know what he was talking about. He laughed in response to the thought, and I knew he was in my head by the way the rasping sound erupted in my heart and brought an ache into the front of my head. "The both of you have similar eyes." Anna looked to me, confused, but I kept mine from hers, knowing Fray wasn't speaking of the Queen and I, but rather my mother. "It would make sense if you had similar abilities as well." My heart rate sped up and I could feel it hitting my rib cage like a battering ram. My hands clenched the hilt of my sword in a death grip that I longed to move to his throat.

"Then sense does not apply to us," I snarled, leaning forward slightly in aggression and defiance.

"Isn't it always passed through the blood?" His claws scraped the stone of his stalagmite, and I could see his struggle to even seem threatening.

"I suppose it missed a generation, _Fray_." A deafening growl ripped through the cave and I knew I had just lit a match to a kerosene river.

"You've no right," Fray threatened, throwing his head forward towards me as he bared his teeth. I drew my sword and set it straight for where his snout was heading.

My face, coincidentally.

He stopped just an inch before meeting the tip of my sword, his breath fogging on my sword. "That sword is evidence that sense does, in fact, apply to you." I chuckled humorlessly, remembering the tattoos that covered the whole extension of both my forearms.

"If anything, it's more proof that it applies to my mother, not I." A tense pause came between us and I measured my chances against the ass of a dragon. With disabled wings and what looked like unable legs, I could've very well won a duel. The length of his mouth and teeth, however, told me otherwise, and I knew it better to know my surroundings as well as my opponent.

"Pardon me, but my I ask what is going on, exactly?" Anna's voice tore us from our reveries and I couldn't help but bring my eyes to her, immediately making a deadly mistake by ignoring Fray. I hoped that keeping him in my peripheral was enough.

"What do you mean, Your Highness?" I never dropped my sword, but my arm was shaking from the weight of the solid bar of ice. It then hit me that the Queen would have absolutely no knowledge of my lineage or blood. I sighed and brought my eyes back to Fray.

_The Queen is alienated from our conversation_, I thought, directing it to the wine eyes of Fray, praying but also knowing that he would be able to hear me.

_Lower your sword and I will lower mine_, he responded. His presence in my brain was great, even greater than the ubiquitous snow storm that was placed there by my mother so long ago. His voice was thunder and lightning, meddling and mingling with the slicing winds and blinding snow I had grown used to and creating a monstrous headache to the front of my skull. When I did not move, Fray growled, but it was not aloud, and it brought an earthquake to my wintry thoughts. _Now, you filthy knave_, his eyes clenched and a fiery sensation filled my heart.

I really, really wanted to decapitate Fray.

Slowly, I sheathed my sword and turned to Anna, body still tense from Fray's presence sitting in the deepest caverns of my brain. "This dragon is speaking nonsense."

_And now I'm done speaking altogether. _Although he was being serious, I couldn't help but chuckle, earning a confused look from Anna. _I'm returning to my stalagmite_.

_Petulant child_, I chided.

_Deceiving homosexual_, he retorted as he brought himself back to his rock. A scowl pulled at my lips as I brought my full attention to Anna. She seemed to notice the change in Fray's behavior as her eyes were squinted slightly, only barely letting the teal of her eyes show, asking a question without actually asking it. I shrugged before stepping closer to her.

"Just disregard it, my Queen," I whispered. "However, you shouldn't disregard the reason we came here. Which was what exactly?"

"Well," she turned to Fray, clasping her hands in front of her, straightening her back, and taking a deep breath. "I originally came to ask Fray a question. You see, he has this strange ability to see into the future."

"It's not an exact reading, I assure you," Fray interjected, raising his head. "It's blurrier the further in time it is." He flicked his eyes over to the Queen. "How may I be of assistance, Your Highness?"

"A month, if you would." Disregarding the miscellaneous dirt and grime on the floor, Anna sat, looking at me soon afterwards, seemingly waiting for me to join her. Sighing, I took my place next to her, sitting cross-legged. Fray also sighed, and I wondered if he really enjoyed doing this.

_It's more of a favor than an avid will to do it. It's not something I'm excited to delve into. _I hummed in the back of my throat as he turned to face Anna and I. His eyes lost focus and lost all pigment, turning into a clear window into his soul, literally. A cacophony of colors and shapes passed over his irises, and I could almost make them out inside my mind's eye.

"Trade with Weselton will improve drastically, for the Duke's daughter seems to fancy you." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anna smile and blush, her reddened face bright in the monotonous cave. On the contrary, my mind saw her cheeks pale and hollow, deep bags settled under her eyes, and the evanescence of her eyes was replaced with a monochromatic replication. I blinked a few times, honestly worried, but after the third or fourth time, the image disappeared and was replaced with the Queen I originally met. "Your people will being preparing for the Spring Festival. They will need help, however. A lack of imported honeysuckle will threaten the festival, but I see that Sarina and Alexander of Switzerland will be more than happy to send and extra import should you ask." Anna's eyes were wide, I noticed, and I realized that this was probably the reason she was doing so well on the throne. That was not meant as an insult, but it didn't seem to me her personality was befitting of a Queen. She was more of a princess, or maybe a duchess of some sort, but definitely not a queen. The dragon, Fray… he was her advisor, more or less.

And what an advisor he made.

"Also, Your Highness," Fray blinked his eyes they were immediately filled with their red wine coloring again. "I should add that plans of war will begin towards the end of the month. It will take months, perhaps a year to finish though, if I'm correct." At this, Anna's face lost all coloring and her eyes and mouth went wide.

"War?" she stuttered out as her shoulders dropped. "What do you mean 'war'?"

"That's all I can see, Your Majesty. Now if you'll excuse me." He turned away and returned to the position we first found him in, head to the hole in the ceiling, body wrapped tightly against the stalagmite. His newfound apathy towards Anna did not tear him from the part of my head he took as his own.

_Death. I sense death, Elsa._ I froze, not a breath entered nor left my body. _Forgive me_.

_I do._ I yearned to hold him in my hands, but without malice this time. I didn't know who was to die, or how many, or anything, really, but from the little I felt from this… mind connection, I knew that death was a close friend of Fray's that he'd rather not meet again. _I do, Fray_.

"Fray?" asked Anna as she stood. I followed her, the heaviness of Fray's presence in my mind somehow weighing me down. "You can't just stop there!" He didn't respond. "Fray!"

_Please tell her to stop. I wish to rest. I wish to be alone. _"Anna," I whispered, again forgetting my place as I grabbed her upper arm softly. "He's done. I'm sure we can come back later." Her eyes asked why, but she didn't argue. Nodding, she took my hand and led me around the pyre to an opening I hadn't seen before. She walked at a brisk pace, keeping her eyes to the ground as we left the cave. Her mouth was shut but I knew her mind was racing, looking for answers or clues as to why a war would be in the makings.

Fray never left his mental corner in my mind.

-0-

The horse was tired, that was obvious, even after having a break and the thinning snow on the ground. I asked Anna if it would be alright for me to simply walk beside her and the horse, but she insisted I stay mounted. A part of me wished for it to be because she wanted my warmth and body pressed against her to block the still strong wind and cold, but the other more logical part told me that it would just simply be more polite and faster to keep me on the horse.

I held her close to me, not caring if she wanted me to or not. The further away we got from Fray, the emptier I felt. Anna somehow helped that lost, hopeless, _empty_ feeling that was slowly enveloping my heart. I don't think she minded though, because every time my arm involuntarily twitched or I consciously pulled her closer to me and pressed my face into the space between her shoulder and neck or up against her cheek, she would jump as if she'd been delving too deep into too somber thoughts before reciprocating the affectionate touches.

I couldn't explain it. A part of me was attracted to the Queen, but not just in a lustful way. I wanted to kiss her and lay with her and everything else, yes, but it seemed deeper than that as well. She filled the empty space in my heart and head and made me forget the markings etched deep into my arms, something that I begged for years and years to forget. The sliver of ice embedded in my body was somehow forgotten when I felt her shoulder blades press up against my bound chest. The ice in my veins was somehow thawed when I felt her cheek press into mine softly when a particularly strong gust of wind blew perpendicular to us. I wanted to whisper in her ear. I wanted to tell her that—

What _did_ I want to tell her?

What did I have to say?

-0-

We dismounted the horse near the southernmost castle wall. I leapt down first and helped Anna down even though I knew she was perfectly able. Honestly, I felt as if I just wanted to touch her one more time before I had to keep my distance for only God knew how long. While helping her down, I unintentionally faced her to me and brought her close enough to kiss. She sent the horse on its way to the stables without separating our eyes. Our noses were almost touching. I could feel and breathe her foggy exhales.

_Do it. Do it. Kiss her, Elsa… _Kiss _her, Elsa._

I knew it wasn't Fray who was speaking in my head.

"Would you be terribly insulted if I did something extremely inappropriate?" I whispered, my breath ghosting over the stray hairs that fell from her bun. My eyes traced her face, attempting to catch all the details, all the freckles, each miniscule wrinkle and her barely-there dimples. I looked at her lips and I knew. I knew for a fact what I wanted to do. I didn't want to back down.

"I…" Her eyes were wide, but they weren't afraid. They were… something I couldn't place. Out of my peripheral, I saw her head just barely shake her head left to right. I nudged my lips closer to hers; fuelled by the courage injected into me by the wide eyed, open mouthed response. My eyelids fell as the tips of my lips brushed the pink flesh of the Queen's, a fire seething under my skin. No other part of our bodies touched, but how I wished to hold her, even if it was just her hand or her chin, even if it was just a soft caress of my fingers against her skin. Then, just as I was about to press my lips to hers completely, Anna's hands were against my shoulders, forcing me away. "We can't," she groaned. Her eyes were screwed shut and her face was turned away to where the horse would've been if it hadn't moved. "We're… We're of a different class. You're my _guard_."

I turned the opposite direction and brought a hand to my grime-laden, cropped hair. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. Forgive me, please. It's been a long day and it seems I've gone just about as delirious as the dragon."

"No, no, it's understandable. I shouldn't have… um, given you consent without fully thinking." My face was on fire. I wanted to to see if hers was as well, but I didn't want to meet her eyes again. After a few moments, I felt a hand on my upper arm, tugging my slightly towards the castle wall.

_She senses your discomfort and wishes to comfort you. How cute. _

_Oh hush._ Fray snickered in the back of my head as I turned with Anna, keeping my eyes firmly placed to the now apparent grass we'd ended up on without my knowing. _It's about time you made an appearance._

"There should be a rune-lock somewhere around here," the Queen mumbled, running her hands all over the grey stones and looking around frantically. "Come on, come on, I know you're around here somewhere," she murmured, fingering each individual crack and seam. Bent over at the waist at this point, her behind was pointed out in an unladylike fashion, shaking slightly as she searched.

"Um—"

"No arguments, Elsia, just help me."

"I don't know what it looks like, though," I muttered, rubbing my legs through my pants awkwardly. I hadn't meant for her to hear me, but when she stood straight and looked me in the eye with a confused look on her face, I knew I wasn't quiet enough.

"It's kind of an odd shape, I suppose." She pressed a finger to lips in thought before jumping like she had a great epiphany and dropping to the ground, where there was still a thin layer of snow. Using the same finger that she pressed to her lips just a second before, she began drawing in the powder-like snow. First, she drew a crude looking circle with a wobbly line going through the center. Then she brought her eyes to mine, smiling and shrugging. "It's pretty simple but still strange. Nothing I've ever found." She shrugged nonchalantly and stood again. "If you find it, just put two dots, symmetrical, on each side of the line." She stabbed the air with her index and middle finger as an example. I nodded and moved towards the wall. Anna kicked away the imitation of the rune before following me and resuming her search for that actual rune.

_Look to your left, Elsia, next to the Queen's waist_, Fray whispered a few moments after I pressed my fingers to the cold stone of Arendelle's castle_. _I followed Fray's instruction without hesitation. There, exactly where he directed was a small circle that was barely visible and in a spot that wouldn't normally be noticed, even by Anna's prodding fingers. Quietly, I went over and bent down to get a better view of the marking, unknowingly placing my face next to the Queen's rear. The rune-lock looked similar to the one Anna etched into the snow, the only difference being that this one was on its side, the middle line parallel to the ground. It was embedded into the stone. _More like etched_, the dragon corrected.

_Whichever_, I responded as pressed my first and second finger in the circle on both sides of the line. With a large creaking and the horrid sound of rock scraping against rock, a small opening appeared, looking wide enough only for one person to enter at a time. Both the Queen and I rose in synchrony, both adorning wide smiles of achievement. "Fabulous, Elsia! I knew I made the right choice." She clapped her hands twice in joy before entering the fissure.

_She only made the right choice because I assisted her_, Fray breathed into my head once I entered the makeshift door behind the Queen. I was immediately plummeted into darkness, left to feeling around like I was blind behind the monarch, whose steps were shuffled and irregular along the maculate, uphill terrain.

_You help her greatly, don't you, Fray? _A small smile came upon my lips and I had to contain laughter as Anna tripped and was forced to grapple at the craggy wall to keep herself from falling. "Are you well, Your Highness?" I asked, concerned for her wellbeing, as I extended a hand to assist her.

"I am… I am. Thank you, Elsia," she smiled and I was surprised I could see it in the pitch darkness of the path. I nodded and waited for her to take two steps before continuing. "The tunnel goes upwards into the Servant's Quarters. Kai and Gerda should be there to greet us."

"Understood, your highness," a moment of silence, except for the sliding of our boots and the movement of pebbles under our feet, followed.

_I was forced to. And you don't have to call me 'Fray'. 'Fray' is simply a nickname used by the monarchs. It's not truly my name. _

_Just like 'Elsia' isn't truly mine?_

_Yes but my existence doesn't depend on a name as yours does._

_Very well_, a few feet of silence before my curiosity got the better of me. _What shall I call you by then?_

_My name, I suppose. _Although having a century or two year old dragon's conscious wasn't too horrifying, I was still rather annoyed at his blatant satire and disrespect. _Please, _you_ are the one who is to respect me. I am well your senior. _

_Fine, you sarcastic, senile, little shit_, a smug grin pulled at my lips as Anna and I came to a small, mold-ridden door and the dragon growled. _What even is your name?_ I asked as Anna slowly opened the door, allowing just a miniscule amount of light to filter into the tunnel at a time, aware of our unadjusted eyes. I still squinted as the bright sunlight coming from the Servant's Quarter pierced my eyes.

_Zmaj, Elsa. You may call me Zmaj._

"Your Highness!" An ear destroying voice tumbled through the door, and soon its owner plummeted into the tunnel with it. "We have been waiting for _hours_!"

"I don't see—" the woman (it was difficult to see at first, but after a few breaths, I figured out it was, if fact, a woman) took Anna into her arms, squeezing the small monarch to the point where her back was bent abnormally. "—why you would," Anna continued after the older woman, Gerda, I suppose her name was, released her. "I told Fredrik I'd be fine and here I am." She gestured towards herself and smiled before stepping through the mottled doorway, myself only two steps behind.

"And who is this young man?" the woman asked, immediately tensing when I emerged from the tunnel. I bowed low in respect and rose with an extended hand.

"Elsia Mannheimer of Galaway, ma'am, it's a pleasure to have your acquaintance." She refused to take my bloodied hand, something I didn't blame her for.

"'Acquaintance' is a term you should use loosely, Sir Mannheimer." Her curt tone poured acid on my gut, filling it with an invasive resentment that burned to hit the knave.

"Of course," I rasped softly. "Forgive my ignorance." I drew my hand back and brought it even the hilt of my long sword, gripping the sheath tightly.

"Gerda," Anna interjected, taking notice of the terse auras surrounding Gerda and I. "Until Sir Mannheimer undergoes and passes the required training I expect you and Kai both to treat him as if he's a visiting royalty. Is that understood?" I hadn't noticed the large man off to the side until he and Gerda nodded in synonymy. "Very well then," Anna came beside me and picked the fingers of my right hand away from my sheath, taking them in her own hands. I noted her disregarding of the dried, brown blood pressed into my skin. "Elsia, come with me. I'll show you where you'll stay until your room is ready." She pulled me along, past the two servants (one who spoke too much and the other mute as the moon during an eclipse) and through a door that was hidden in the wall.

-0-

She led me down a long hallway by the hand, though 'led' is not a term that would be correctly used in that situation. We were even with one another. Our hands swung between us and our steps were in perfect tune as she described the subjects of the plethora of paintings that lined the hall.

"This one is based on Spain, based in Ainsa I do believe. I've heard the weather is glorious there next to the river." I stopped at the painting, anchoring Anna there with me.

_Ainsa?_

…_Home._ I saw my mother's face in place of the woman's next to the river. She was bent over the shore as if she was washing something (the artist simply depicted a green blob, the main muse of the artwork being the river and the far off mountains) in the crystal blue water. Children ambled along on the hill overshadowing the river, running along the paved sidewalks and making fun with the merchants that dotted the sides of the main road. Trees separated the far side of the river and what lay beyond, leaving me to rely on my own knowledge of the rougher town that teemed with criminals and illegal substances.

_It won't do to dwell, Elsa_, Zmaj advised. I ignored him and turned to Anna. "I've been there before." Her eyes widened and her mouth opened into an 'O' that longed to pry answers from my own. "The weather truly is marvelous." My hand squeezed hers, silently letting her know that I was done, that no questions would be answered at that time if ever. "The architecture is as well. Based off the Romans. Quite a beautiful area, in my opinion." The monarch simply nodded and turned to continue.

"You do get around, don't you?" She pulled me forward so I was even with her, the painting weighing into my mind and stomach, making me lethargic.

"All around the mainland almost," I muttered, subconsciously matching my steps to Anna's, but taking the lead at the same time, something that would have gotten me decapitated had I done so anywhere else. For some reason, Queen Anna allowed it to happen.

We took a left (mainly because it the only place left to go) and passed a solitary door (red, with white and silver wisps that put the image of snow flurries atop snowy mountain ranges) before walking just a bit more and coming to an off-white door decorated in blue and silver snowflakes. We stopped there and faced each other purely out of instinct. "I hope you don't mind staying in my own room from when I was a child until yours is properly prepared." I nodded and smiled. "Anyway, um," she brought her hand to her hair pushing her hair behind her ears as a pause settled between us. A nervous reaction.

"Don't worry, your Highness. It's perfect."

The Queen laughed. It was dry and cracking and I couldn't help but crack a smile at the sound of it. "Um, well," she paused and pushed another invisible hair behind her ear. "If Fredrik followed orders like he was supposed to, your things from your tent should be there. If not, I-I could go get him."

My head unintentionally tilted to the side. _What's making her so… anxious?_

_Perhaps your smooth charm is too much for her, Elsa_, Zmaj cackled and I could almost see him rocking his head side to side, fully enjoying his jest.

_Oh hush, you crocodile-with-wings. _

_Rude_, he murmured, _crocodiles are much duller than I. _"Thank you, Your Highness. I'm forever grateful for the appeasement you've shown my men and I. I truly don't deserve it."

"Maybe. Though I pray you can convince Bjorgman otherwise."

She left without another word, just a pensive twinkle in her eye and a sad frown upon her face.


End file.
